


& I , I was Sober

by Gleaminginthespotlight



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Mentions of War, Past Life AU, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleaminginthespotlight/pseuds/Gleaminginthespotlight
Summary: "Scotty." You offer with a slightly mischievous grin, your own brown eyes looking at her blue ones. And as you're looking at her. You feel as if you've fallen in deeper and deeper. The way her eyes look as if they were oceans upon oceans. The way a silent grin shows itself in her eyes. If those blue eyes were an ocean. You would have been a sailor trying their best to discover the meaning of them. And you wouldn't care if she had decided to drown you again and again. Time after time. You wouldn't need to reach for a boat to save you, because you'd accept it. But you also know that she has her life. Her own little garden ready to burst through life and show the world what she had in store. You, instead of planting flowers to start over, decided to build walls thinking it would be a better idea than where you currently were. People had tried to get past the walls before but found that they were too high, so went back down. And you didn't blame them. You understood that sometimes you knew you could be a little hard to deal with.-------(also known as the three times Jess lost Rory and the one time he stayed)
Relationships: Rory Gilmore & Jess Mariano, Rory Gilmore/Jess Mariano
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19





	& I , I was Sober

**Author's Note:**

> Before we start this, I'd like to say that there are mentions of death throughout this writing. I had started writing this for another fandom and decided to move this here instead. I have some more notes down towards the bottom. So look for those :)

They say that you find your soulmate no matter where you look. From the gas station on the corner to the hospital as tears brim her eyes due to the sad news of a passing. You find yourself constantly looking for their eyes from across the room, wanting their heart to land right where it belongs next to you. You find yourself smelling like their sheets and the fabric softener they use for each item. You find yourself looking forward to the same television shows as you have before. And mostly you find yourself feeling at home, wanting to recount the times you fell in love with the girl with blue eyes that could tell a universe of stories. She’s always been a star child when you are a lonely astronaut trying to get a closer look. You are Icarus and if that's the case she’s the sun that you flew too high and too close to. 

But there are people who aren’t so lucky to find their soulmates as you did. There are plenty of people who don't have the same luck you have, but you know this took you a long time to get to this point. A long time for her to want to sit by your side while you both listen to a true-crime podcast that blares from the radio next to you. She looks up to you every once and a while and stares at you, bright-eyed and you think ‘what did I do to deserve to call her mine?’ you want to call her ‘kid’ and count the freckles that line her nose as you sit in your apartment complex. The dimly burning light of the Christmas tree still shining in the background. 

“Do you believe in fate?” she asks you and you think. 

You had always been cynical with your beliefs. Not wanting to let anyone in on the things you wanted to believe. You were that kid who stopped believing in Santa and the Easter Bunny the moment your dad left. The kind of kid who would laugh off pain because you didn't want to be seen as damaged. 

“I’ll let you know. Call back later,” you respond cheekily and she rolls her eyes. You wish you could admit. 

**_You didn't believe in fate till you met her._ **

* * *

  
  
  


**_One -_ **

You meet her the first time around like a schoolboy in the 1930s. She's loud and opinionated but has one of the sweetest smiles in anyone you have seen. She looks like summer but as she walks your way, she goes like winter. Leaving your bones chilled to the core, and all together, She makes you want to put on a sweater. As you're walking around your university campus, she approaches you with a memo pad and pen in hand. And immediately you realize that she’s going to make a difference on you. Her bright eyes give you hope as she asks you “scared for the drafting announcement?” and you know what you want to say. Part of you screams ‘be an honest man, she won't judge.’ when the other knows you have a reputation to withhold. You shrug your shoulders before casually responding with 

“Nah, I don't get scared.” and truth be told again, you constantly get scared. Constantly wonder if there are reasons this is happening. You had grown numb though to a once vibrant and intoxicating world. You don't know what to expect, but it's not this. Usually, courage races through your bones, usually, you're anything but like this. Usually, you're the fire in the frame of a young man in a six-foot frame. You're a frenzy of past mistakes that seem to lie into the same thing. You're a collection of people you had come in contact with.

“My mother's new husband is nervous.” she offers raising a brow and you shrug again

“Brave man admitting his fears.” you wish you could admit yours. Tell her how you really feel about the entire situation. You just met her but something in you knows it’ll all one day come right back to her. You stick your tongue into the roof of your mouth pondering. Truthfully, what harm would come from being a little more outgoing with these advances? “Actually.” and you sigh. “what do you say we go to the bar down the road and we can talk about it over drinks?” her eyes brighten at this and you can tell you've made a difference from her. She nods after a second before speaking. 

“That would be lovely mister…?”

“Oh, Colt. Peter Colt.” and she smiles

“Well Peter, I’m Nancy.” and you smile a rare smile. You don't know what it is about the girl you just met but you want to write something to let her know how you feel. 

Together you attend the bar, you learn she’s a student at Yale. And you tell her about your fears with the war. You tell her about the people you heard who never came home. You tell her about the letters that your neighbors would receive in the mail. And she nods, she doesn't write down any of this. Telling you that it's your story to tell. Your story had never been an interesting one, has never been one to want to openly explain the stories behind each of your scars. Like when you fell off the tire swing at your childhood home. Or the first time you got drunk off of something at a work function with all of your buddies from your writing classes. She makes you want to see things from different lighting. You do end up bringing her back to her room as she kisses your cheek goodnight. You're hopeful that you run into her on campus again. Because if you do, you might be able to properly say something to her. 

You do run into her on campus again, this time she's at the library on campus, and you get a glimpse of her life through the books she has in her hands. You offer to help her carry the books out, and she rolls her eyes fondly but hands you a few of them. At the moment she was helping you write the story of your life. And you wish you could be more than just a loose hanging footnote in her own book of different wide-eyed ordeals. 

You end up getting drafted three weeks later. 

You end up getting sent out five weeks 

She’s at the train station when you leave. She's there waving off a friend when you see her. She runs up to wish you luck. And as she does so. You wish you had more than bubbles going through your head. She makes you feel drunk even if you had shared one day together. She kisses your cheek and writes an address on a memo pad sheet you had in her bag. She asks “write me?”

And you do. 

You send her notes on the things that are happening. From the food poisoning, you had got a few weeks later. 

Till finally, the news strikes that you're coming home…

You got hurt in a training period and there was nothing they could do to fix any of it.

When you arrive home, there are a lot of people who decide to spread rumors about you. About the reasons you truly decided to come home. You wish you hadn’t . The town looks different from what you remember, same dimmed lights and simple hometown beauty. But something is different to the entire situation, and you can't pinpoint where the oddness is. You keep your head down and keep your focus on your own breathing. You run into her again at the bar and she waves to you. And you wonder what you did to deserve the looks of absolute pride she has in you. You know your parents were already steady dating at this point. But something in you knew she deserves someone more than you. She deserves someone who could keep up with conversations without a tinge of guilt flooding through them, someone who could party with them on Friday nights and cuddle on Saturdays. Not protect you from nightmares during the nights and ignore their own health. 

And she would have made a lovely bride. 

Would have dazzled the room in white, if she had wanted. Too bad you're not it for her. The hometown skeptics were right on that front.

* * *

  
  
  


**_Two -_ **

The next time you meet her is as if a tinge of pain hits your chest as you examine the room. It's the 1950’s and everything seems to be happening around you, there are rumors of another war starting and you bitterly think the last one just seemed to have ended. You have definitely grown more cynical since high school ended, the people around you thought about changing the world and you just thought about getting out of this small hell hole of a city. You don't see new people, it's just the same phantom faces staring back at you. Acting not at all surprised when you have messed something up during this pattern. You don't remember much about the people you meet and the faces you see. But the things you do know is even if they did have a story to be told, you weren’t interested in listening. It wasn't your thing. Your mom says you should have paid more attention, the world around you is changing and you need to be prepared. But in your mind, the world is too toxic and you aren’t drunk in your own self-absorption to want to pay attention. Your uncle had tried to convince you to come work for him but that was an offer you turned down, going from one small town where everyone knows your name to another? Yeah…. No. Not your speed. 

You stand by the door of the nearest convenience store when you see a flash of chestnut hair rushing by you, she yells for the bus that's passing to wait. But they don't listen. She sighs and looks down at her feet, noticing her shoelaces were untied. She huffs a breath of air before she notices you. “Sorry, you had to see that. I'm late for dinner with my mother,” she announces and you realize she has the most captivating expression, looking straight out of the movies. 

“Those busses never stop for more than two or three minutes,” you say nonchalantly and she nods understandingly. 

“It's a bummer though, I'm going to have to cancel,” she sighs,

“I have my motorbike… I can give you a ride if you need one?” you offer and she gives you a wide-eyed expression, you're a stupid STUPID man, 

“My mother says not to accept rides from strangers…” she goes on and you know you messed up. “But if we were not strangers….” she ponders before speaking again “Jean Louise.” she offers you as she extends a hand from the pavement she's kneeling on, tying her shoe. She stands up and you shake her hand, helping her up. It's at this point that you feel like you had met her before. You don't know if you had, or if it would be possible for you to have met her. You would have known those bright blue eyes. You would have known the bangs that dangle in front of her forehead. You felt as if you would have known who she was. And her nothing seemed to ring a bell. You had a feeling she had the same feeling as you did though. You don't know why she would. But it gives you a good feeling. A feeling of indescribable hope and light.

"Scotty." You offer with a slightly mischievous grin, your own brown eyes looking at her blue ones. And as you're looking at her. You feel as if you've fallen in deeper and deeper. The way her eyes look as if they were oceans upon oceans. The way a silent grin shows itself in her eyes. If those blue eyes were an ocean. You would have been a sailor trying their best to discover the meaning of them. And you wouldn't care if she had decided to drown you again and again. Time after time. You wouldn't need to reach for a boat to save you, because you'd accept it. But you also know that she has her life. Her own little garden ready to burst through life and show the world what she had in store. You instead of planting flowers to start over, decided to build walls thinking it would be a better idea than where you currently were. People had tried to get past the walls before but found that they were too high, so went back down. And you didn't blame them. You understood that sometimes you knew you could be a little hard to deal with.

You have never felt more alive at this moment. And it's this girl who you can thank.

With her though? If this worked out you believed you'd allow her to help you out a window into place so she could look at the flowers in the field. 

With rumors of another war starting soon, you didn't want her to get too close to you. Because if that happened she could get hurt and you didn't think you could ever protect yourself if that happened. She asks you out twenty minutes later when you're standing on her front porch step, and you nod with a newfound smile rising on your own features. You two go steady for a few months. Getting married in her hometown. Your uncle and her mom are there and they both have smiles fronting their expressions. 

You fell in love with her over and over again. As you danced with her in the kitchen of your small home. Soon enough another war does come and you're off. Promising to write her something every chance you get. You place a kiss on her forehead and you're off. You don't remember much after that, there's plenty of memories that flicker from back and forth. And you think, maybe just maybe. There will be a chance you'll end up being happy, or at least happier. In your life though it turns out that tragedy is a best friend that you can't seem to shake. It's a fleeing of bright lights that leaves you paralyzed. 

It's your own funeral that she attends, wearing all black. A veil gracing her features as she explains who you were to her. There's a phantom expression gracing the room as you see her reading your last letter a few times more. The bottom signed with the usual

_See you soon,_

_Scotty_

That wasn't a promise you could keep. Even as a child you never could keep a promise, never could keep something like that. There was happiness before you for her, and you're hoping there is happiness for her after you too. 

* * *

**_Three -_ **

The year is 1974, and everything goes by in a flash. You're 18 years old and quite frankly you think you know everything. The road has been your best friend for who knows how long. So this makes it so you're more prepared than you were before, you don't stop too often. But this fateful day you had to stop for gas, and you saw her eating lunch in a park with a friend. They both had loud laughter and something about the way she sat drew you in. You wish you had a more reasonable response to what you wanted to do, but instead, you find yourself at a loss for words. The one that catches your eye has a book off to her side. And all together you feel like there's something about her that has you wanting to know more.

You're on your way to visit your uncle in this small town not to far from here. And these two look as if they've known the area for years and years. Potentially being born and raised here. You wonder if she's like the others from these small towns. The ones who are so firm in their beliefs won't be moved. You're not a dreamer, you lost all your dreams when your dad left. And to be honest. You wish there was a way to get those dreams back. You had been wide-eyed, bushy-tailed. And now? Now you just feel numb. She raises a brow when she sees you and her friend says something to make her blush a bright red. 

"If you're done staring. You can come to join us." She offers you and you're shocked. She's a lot more forward than you would have given her credit for. You finish getting the gas into your car and park the vehicle on the side of the road. Walking over to her. Kneeling as you move over. 

"Good book?" You ask her. And you know the answer. You've read the book she carries half a dozen times. You haven't had much time to read as of lately. But you're hoping to have more of a chance to do so. Hopeful to be able to stay in one place for more than a few weeks. Maybe …? Forever? Forever would sound nice. Your world was a place where you constantly had to wander. Where you have constantly craved the shock factor of what you were doing. You wanted to be the change, but more of a radical change. It wasn't who you were. 

"The best book." She replied back quickly.

"First time reading?" You ask her and she scoffs a little

"Sixth time." Same as you…

"Then it must be a good book." You reply not being much for conversation. She looks up, your eyes meeting hers. And suddenly the wanderer wasn't as lost anymore...

"You must be new here. We haven't seen you before." Her friend says and the two of you break your eyes away from each other.

"I'm just visiting for now." You reply back. "I'm James." You offer 

"I'm Betty." The one with the book responds. 

"Paulette." The other responds before speaking again. "I speak for both of us when I say we'd love for you to say a while." And you do. 

You stay for a few months, visiting your uncle who lives in the town. You watch as your uncle marries a woman from the town. The woman you learn is Betty's mom. You dance with Betty at the wedding and you're sure you've never felt happier. As time passes Paulette ends up getting married to a boy from the town and you both are at her wedding party. Before you know it you're about to go on the road again. Stuff happens and you don't want to stick around to see the aftermath. 

"Why do you always run!" Betty yells at you as you're packing your car. 

"I can explain!" You yell back, defensive. These are your choices.

"Don't explain it! Just stay." Her voice cracks as you hear her say quieter "just stay…" and you break. 

You can't stay though. Can't pull yourself to do so. And you run. 

* * *

  
  


**_+One_ **

Her hands are entwined into yours as she runs her fingers across yours. She's always been one for moments like these and thought you weren't before. You've gotten used to it and mostly you've come to the point where you like it.

Your apartment doesn't have the best heating and often it leads to where you both should be freezing. The winter chills to your bones. This time though. It doesn't. Instead, a blanket lazily lays over you two. And you feel just fine. You keep looking at her as you're sitting in your apartment and your eyes keep flickering back to the ring that's sitting on her finger. it's not the expensive sparkling ring you're sure someone else could have given her, in fact, you got this at a thrift store and you were surprised it fit her finger since it was a spontaneous moment. You managed to get the girl, and you're managing to stay in her life. even if it took you again and again. You managed to find her. And you don't want to let her out of your sight. You hear the distant sound of the sirens outside, and at once you hear everything die down and you hear the sound of her heart beating. The sound might sound like nothing to anyone else. But to you, it sounds like an intoxicating beat, and you hadn't been able to appreciate it before. You do now. And you never want to let that stop. 

"I do." You say after a moment and she looks at you

"You do what?' asks and you smile

"I do believe in fate." And she leans over to press a kiss to your lips. She's yours and you're hers for safe keeping. 

You and her? You're the lucky ones, the ones who find the person who lights their souls and entire body ablaze. And you don't mind because if she keeps your brittle heart warm. And you, you think you're ready to stop running.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, lovelies !! thanks again for reading this. I was excited to finally put something out into this fandom. It took a while to decide what exactly I wanted to write, but once I did I'm happy I got to that point. If anyone wants to be friends and all of that I'm always open to some new writing buddies. :) We could bounce ideas off of each other and all that fun stuff !! One more time thanks for reading this, all my love
> 
> ♡ - JJ


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